Lovedrunk
by HerNamewasAlice
Summary: He's done something that he regrets but at the same time, he doesn't. (Jade/Roy)


** A/N: experimental writing, you guys might not like this experimental style, so I'm sorry. Go check out my other Roy/Jade fic, "Wonderland."  
**

* * *

**Lovedrunk_  
_**

* * *

_"I think you know what I'm after."_

_A crooked smile appeared on her face. She kept moving - following her exercises in a slow, fluid motion...Swaying. His body couldn't help but to follow her movements. "I do actually," her voice was soft and calm. There was something in her voice - behind this soft, charming tone - he sensed the hint of sadism and amusement in it. "Do you?"_

_..._

_..._

_..._

It started with a kiss.

But he doesn't know how it ended to this.

He has her in the darkest part of an alley, pressed against to the wall - his lips pressed to her neck - hands everywhere on her. Touching. Groping. Her. Nails in his skin - pressed with such pressure, blood is flowing out, trickling down to his flesh and articles of clothing - sounds of satisfied moans - their bodies pressed together - he's addicted. He enjoys it - her body rubbed against his - this friction.

...

...

...

"You can use me," she says with no remorse.

He doesn't respond - his fingers are on her clothing. They're in a room - his room - his apartment. Her eyes are on him. Blinking. The lights are on and he doesn't like it any other way. He _w__ants_ to see her - her body_ - _her face - her reactions. He wants to see her clearly, not in the dark. Slowly, he unties her green kimono. Unwrapping. Unraveling. She shrugs herself out of the material, letting it fall to the ground. He pulls up her undershirt - her shorts - the layers, and then with fading patience, he nearly rips her from her undergarments.

"I wouldn't mind," she added in a whisper, her eyes are gleaming to him. She watches him quietly take off her shoes. They like to dominate the other but tonight she's not going to fight. She'll let him have his way without any complications. He knows. He knows about himself. The truth. And she knows he wants to forget, to take out on her. There's no expression in his face.

He pushes her down to his bed roughly - and quickly, he takes off his own clothes. And then, he goes on top of her.

And, he takes her. Just like that. He's fucking her - the term may be crude but it was truth, the bitter truth. No frills. No denial. He's fucking her. Senseless.

"You can use me," she repeated. "Use me all you want." She kisses him, on the corner of his lips. He hated when she did that - kiss him softly. Touch him softly. He doesn't want to feel - he doesn't want to feel anything with her. To some extent, he harbored feelings for her but he doesn't want to grow. He doesn't because he knows. He knows what was going to happen. She's going to hurt him. "I wouldn't care."

He should be disturbed that she liked being used but he isn't. He goes on, pounding his member inside of her - making her arch her back - making her scream. "I know," he rasped.

Color faded from her face. She wanted to hear something else from him. Something more. Fragments of maybe, just maybe he cared, for her. "But remember," she said slowly, in a sharp tone. "You may be the one using me but don't forget who's manipulating who." Her eyes flickered to him.

...

...

...

He loves it - what they had, their relationship. It wasn't a relationship at all. And he liked it the way it is. He's been in numerous of relationships but none were long term. Past lovers expected more from her - commitment - love. He wasn't romantic. He wasn't open. He wasn't any of it. But with her, she didn't expect anything from him, only to satisfy their needs. Their physical needs. Nothing else, only that. No strings attached. No emotions. That's all he wanted.

But it wasn't what she wanted.

"You shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, gathering his sheets to her bare body. She took away the bottle of vodka from his hands. It's late at night and he's drinking. The bottle is half full and she knows it's new. She doesn't like it when he drinks.

He swallowed and turned away from her. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm nothing."

"You're not nothing. It doesn't matter. 'I think, therefore I am,'" she restated a saying by a philosopher, Rene Descartes. He doesn't react. Her eyes lowered. "I don't like it when you drink." She doesn't. He's a different person when he drunk. She leaned and left playful kisses on his skin. "I don't want you to drink or smoke anymore."

"Why do you care?" he turned and glared at her. His mood is changed. More bitter. More hostile.

She responded with a scowl on her face. "Of course I care for you-

His ears went red. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to be attached to her. She's going to hurt him, just like everyone. "Why do you care?" he repeated, interrupting her. "When I don't care for you at all."

She flinched but grabs his face. There's force into her grip. "Of course you care for me."

"I don't," he swallowed, painting a face of emptiness.

"You're lying."

"I don't care for you."

...

...

...

She's been gone for weeks. He doesn't want to care but he does. He does all that he can to forget her. To put the feelings away. The memories. It wasn't like what they had -what they were doing was going to last. It wasn't. But he can't. He can't.

The only thing he does to cope is to drink.

Get drunk.

...

..

..

He sees her, with someone else. She's in civilian attire and she's smiling - holding hands with someone else. His face fell. He's drunk, fueled by the moment and emotions - and he goes to her - snatches her by the hand - and takes her away.

"Red!" she screamed, slapping him on the face. "What are you doing?"

"I should ask the same," he clenched his teeth together, grinding them. His right cheeks is pulsating, blood rushing to the place she hit his face. He doesn't notice. He's too drunk to notice. "What are you doing with _him_?"

"It's not like you care," she snapped. Her eyes are hard.

"Of course I care."

She rolled her eyes. "You have a funny a way of showing it. Typical for a man. Sees a woman as property and feels threaten every time he sees her with anyone that isn't the same sex as her."

Hatred escapes their mouths. They're fighting. Screaming.

He doesn't want this. He wants her. He grabs her by the face and crushes his lips to hers. He's desperate but he does so, kissing her. His heart is beating but his breathing - every time he takes a breath, it hurts - there's this constricting pain. There was always this pain every time he kissed her. This pain -this sad, sharp pain - this warm pain. Despite their differences, they were the same. They were possessive creatures, driven by obsession - and fall by their vulnerability, their weakness. They both fall to each other's touches. Her knees are shaking and she forgets everything.

It was wrong - what they had.

Dysfunctional.

They're breathing into each other - holding each other - grabbing - pulling. Panting, into each other's mouths. Their tongues sliding against the other. Mouths sucking on the other. She loves it - the way he tasted. The way he made her feel. They were demented. But she tastes something else from him and so does he. They both taste alcohol. She's drunk. He's drunk. They're both drunk.

No good can happen from this.

"Jade," he pulls away. "Marry me."

...

...

...

He did something, something he regretted. His mind doesn't register until the next day, when he's hungover.

His head is pounding, beating-she's there - in his bed. She's still sleeping - it's the middle of the afternoon. His eyes widened. She's never here in the day. Only the night. "Jade," he shakes her by the shoulder. He's terrified. He doesn't remember anything that occurred the day before. "Jade," he curses underneath his breath. He pulls the sheets from her body-

He stops.

He notices something.

On her hand. Her finger. There's a ring, a diamond ring.

Roy went pale. "No," he whispered and looked around the room - he sees a white parchment of paper on his nightstand. He snatches the paper - crumpling it almost, and hastily skims it. It's a marriage certificate. Fragments of memories appear in his mind - images of driving to Vegas. Picking out rings. He shook his head and threw the paper to the ground. He's mortified. He's never done this - do something without thinking. He doesn't want this to be married to her. Their sexual relationship was bad already- and being married to her - a villain -a person that should be his enemy - it was wrong. "Jade," he muttered.

"What?" she mumbled, her eyes slowly opening. She's squinting, her wild hair even more out of place. She's still hungover. "What the hell, Red-

She paused and notices the ring on her finger. She went pale.

"What happened?" he screamed at her.

She blinked several times before answering. "Apparently we got hitched." She seemed amused instead of petrified.

His eyes narrowed. "You say it as if it's a good thing."

"Well," she sat up. "It could have been worse. You could have married a random stranger. Check your body if you have any tattoo or piercing of some sort," she crookedly smiled.

Roy frowned at her. "Jade this isn't funny at all. We shouldn't have done it-

"Well it happened. There's nothing you could do to take back the day."

"We can get a divorce," he snatched the cell phone from his dresser and started to search for a phone number online.

"Why?"

He raised his eyebrow at her. "What do you mean why?" he snapped. "I'm not going to be married to someone because I was drunk."

"It was bound to happen," she said as she stretched her body. She's strangely calm about it.

"No, it wasn't bound to happen, Jade. People that get married love each other-

"And you don't?"

There was a long silence.

He remembers, he remembers telling her he loved her last night. He was drunk. He didn't mean it. She of all people should know better. Nothing was supposed to happen between them. "No," he swallowed. "I don't love you."

...

...

...

The words of several days ago were still echoing. Echoing in her mind. How could she be so foolish? She knew better than that. What they had - it wasn't supposed to be. There was nothing in him - and yet, she wanted him. She pushed the thoughts away and went on, marching through the streets of a dark city with the other members of the Shadows. The city is empty. A portion of the people are dead. Half the buildings are gone and there's nothing but the scent of remnants of smoke. There's a gun in her hand and she's holding it up, marching with the others.

_I don't care for you._

_I don't love you_.

Her eyes lowered but the tears were hidden by her mask. It was him that ended up manipulating her. The saddest part was, she did love him but he didn't. He didn't love her. Her never loved her. Everything he did with her was all a mistake. No more, she thought. No more of this.

No more.

_I don't care for you._

_I don't love you._

The only thing she could do was move on.

...

...

...

He waits until she is alone from the other members and he takes her out with his bow and arrow. The arrow takes the gun out from her hand but she is quick to respond. They're fighting. Bloody fists and all. Beating each other.

Hurting.

She's angry. Heartbroken. She doesn't want to remember. She wants to hurt him. Make him feel what she felt. He's trying to hold her - trying to kiss her - but she doesn't let him. She won't. He wants her back. He always wanted her back every time he hurt her. She doesn't want to go back. "I hate you. Don't you ever touch me again," she hissed, flipping him down - breaking his arm.

He screams but he went on - trying to hold her down - trying to get her to her senses. "Jade-

"Don't call me Jade!" she screeched. "Don't you ever call me that."

"Jade- I'm sorry-

"I said don't ever call me that!" she screamed, hooking her leg around the back of his, bringing him down. She hears a cracking sound. It wasn't from her. "I hate you," she bit out each word. "The only time I want to see you is when I need to sign the divorce papers."

"Jade-

"Don't ever call me that- don't you ever touch me- don't."

...

**Roy: **Jade-

**Jade: **Don't.

**Roy: **Jade. I'm sorry- I want to be with you. I never meant to hurt you. I know what I did doesn't make up for hurting you but I promise to be better. I promise I won't ever hurt you. I want to be married to you. I'm sorry for everything I've done. Please- forgive me-

**Jade: **Don't...Don't...

...

She's lying there, on the concrete. She dirty, covered in soot and bruises. Cuts and scars. His eyes lowered. Her eyes are closed. She's barely breathing. He leaned down and touched her face - her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He didn't want to hurt her. He never wanted to. "I'm sorry."

So dysfunctional, what they had.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.

Her eyes opened slowly. "It's okay," she said softly before closing her eyes again.

* * *

**End.**

* * *

**A/N: please review**


End file.
